The Different One
by TexStarr
Summary: The Elf had been working as a slave of Sauruman for four years, and no torture would steal away his spirit. But when magic becomes involved, he is offered only one option. Will he take it? Or meet his doom?
1. The Beginning

Title: The Different One  
  
Author: TexStarr  
  
Rating: PG (for now)  
  
Summary: The Elf had been working as a slave of Sauruman for four years, and no torture would steal away his spirit. But when magic becomes involved, he is offered only one option. Will he take it? Or meet his doom?  
  
Please Review!  
  
  
  
  
  
Ch. 1: The Beginning  
  
  
  
  
  
I have only vague recollections of what it means to be free. For many years now, I have been a slave of the Dark Lands. I am chilled to the bone, though the searing heat burns my flesh and scorches my once soft and beautiful hair. I have fear not this place, no matter how I am pressured to do so. The blackness surrounds me always, the only light emitting from the fires used to create dark weapons of war. My sorrow is for the trees, for they are felled before my eyes. Deliberately, they allow me out of the cracks just when the trees fall. They enjoy torture. It is what they live for. Jerking me up by my hair and holding my face with their clawed hands toward the trees. The once mighty and majestic trees. I care not of the marks they cruelly leave on my arms, face and back. I only wish to survive.  
  
If I do not work hard enough for their liking, I am whipped. I simply don't feel it anymore. It has happened many times. They can torture me as they will, but I shall never become one of them. I now have a time to rest, but not for long. I shall play my flute. The one reminder that I was once a proud, free elf of Mirkwood. A sad tune is all that comes from the flute I carved in the beautiful home, amongst my own kind.  
  
  
  
"Stop that music! Where is it coming from?" Shouted one of the orcs, in the black speech of that land.  
  
"From the elf." Answered another.  
  
"Take that away from him. How could it have been overlooked?"  
  
  
  
"Not my flute! It is but the one thing that reminds me of home!" I yelled at the orc over the din.  
  
"You are lucky I don't take your life, elf." The foul creature answered. He took the flute from my work-weakened hands, and hit it over his knee. He cried in pain, and dropped the flute back into my lap.  
  
"This is no ordinary flute. This is a flute of Mirkwood. It shall never be destroyed!" I yelled.  
  
"We'll see about that. I have no time for such trivial matters. I had better not see that flute again. Back to work with you, elf!"  
  
I cringed inwardly at the harsh words, but I said nothing. Slowly I uncurled my long legs, and stood up, limping my way over to the stone platform where swords were being made, but my mind was elsewhere. It wasn't until I felt the whips crack at my back did I snap out of my haze. I returned to work, for I did not want to feel the whips again.  
  
  
  
  
  
"How are things going?" Asked Sauruman.  
  
"All goes well, milord." Answered the orc in front of him. "Except the elf, who chose today to play music in our presence. He shows no sign of becoming one of us, milord."  
  
"I knew not of this elf. Why has no one me told of him?"  
  
"Long has it been since you walked among us, milord. He has been working down there for at least four years, milord."  
  
"You have tortured him?"  
  
"Yes, milord.  
  
"He may be the one who can bring me what I want. You say he has great spirit, do you not?"  
  
"Yes, milord."  
  
"Well let us see if we can darken it. Bring this elf to me!"  
  
"Yes milord!" The orc cried and ran out of the room.  
  
  
  
  
  
I slammed the hammer to the sword making an ugly metallic sound. Pausing, I wiped the sweat from my brow with my forearm. Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind by rough hands, and lifted up onto the shoulder of an orc.  
  
"Come elf. Sauruman wishes to see you." The orc carrying me said with disgust.  
  
This is my chance to escape. To flee for my very life. They are taking me above to the tower. If I were not so weak, I might have been able to accomplish this. But the years of hard labour were taking their toll on me. One thought, though, was fresh on my mind. What would Sauruman the White want to see me for? 


	2. The Proposal and the Change

Title: The Different One  
  
Author: TexStarr  
  
Rating: PG (for now)  
  
Summary: The Elf had been working as a slave of Sauruman for four years, and no torture would steal away his spirit. But when magic becomes involved, he is offered only one option. Will he take it? Or meet his doom?  
  
Please Review!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ch. 2: The Proposal and the Change  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I was carried up the stairs of the great tower, where Sauruman awaited my arrival. The orc threw me off his back at the top of the long staircase, and I dropped to the ground. My bear feet touched the cold stone, and I shivered, for I had been in such scalding temperatures. My pale, gaunt form stood in stark contrast to the black of the tower. I turned to look at the surrounding landscape, and I saw the mountains looming over the horizon. Upon looking down, my heart fell. All of the trees had been ripped off the earth, roots and all. Not even stumps remained of the once tall and majestic trees. The lands around the tower had no grass. All that remained was dirt.  
  
The trees are much like me. Once proud and tall, and have now fallen. Fallen to the hands of darkness. I was then roughly turned around and prodded with the hilt of a sword into the gloom of the tower. I was pushed back and a few orcs came forward, and unbarred the giant door, and pushed it open. I was once again prodded inside, this time with the blade. I am sure that it has left yet another wound on my back, but I do not care.  
  
  
  
I was shoved into a large hallway, and pushed through a door on the left side. Upon entering, I saw a long table heavily laden with foods of all sorts. The smells filled my nose, and my senses suddenly jerked awake. My stomach leaped at the thought of the delicious foods, and my mouth watered.  
  
  
  
"Ah! Excellent, you have brought him." Sauruman said to the orcs behind me in Westron.  
  
"Yes, milord. Just as you ordered." An orc answered.  
  
"You may leave now, but have a few guards remain outside the door."  
  
"Yes, milord." With that, they cast me to the ground, and I slid a short way before stopping, and lying there on the cold stone. The orcs hobbled out the door, and barred it shut.  
  
"So, you are the elf who I have only just heard of. Come! Sit and eat. I am sure it has been long since you last had a proper meal, has it not?" Sauruman said. I thought of the meagre bread and water I had been given before, and slowly rose to my feet. I made my way to the table and sat at the opposite end of Sauruman. I would have resisted. I would have tried to escape, had I been in the company of another. I knew what power Sauruman could wield, and I did not want to vie with that, least of all in my current state.  
  
  
  
"Eat! I have any food here that you may desire, and drink as well. We may speak as soon as you have quenched your hunger. You look famished." He had no idea how long it had been since I had even seen such delicacies. I had a fine china plate set in front of me, and two crystal glasses. The silverware had intricate designs as well. All bore an 'S' etched carefully into them. I reached in front of me, and my hand closed on a loaf of bread. Without having to reach for it, my bread was suddenly buttered. I glanced up at Sauruman, who just gave me that maniacal smile of his. I looked back to my plate, and I picked up a slice of the bread. I gingerly sniffed it, but it smelled all right and I was too hungry to care. The butter was as sweet as honey, and the bread was even sweeter. It seemed that I had never tasted anything so wonderful.  
  
I then took a pitcher that sat in front of me, and filled my glass with the nearly clear liquid. Sniffing it, I found that it had no odour, so I took a sip. Instantly my bones warmed, and my weakness disappeared. I felt energy coursing through my veins. Eating only what I needed, I slowly rose from the table, as did Sauruman. He came towards me and I watched as his many coloured robes billowed out behind him.  
  
He came up close to me, and fingered my tattered clothes.  
  
"Hmm. You should like a change of clothing, I suppose?" He asked me. I said nothing. I just stared at the floor beneath my feet.  
  
"I asked you a question. You will answer me!" By magical force, my head was wrenched up, and I peered into those smouldering eyes with my own crystal blue ones. Defiance and anger built up inside me, and turned and ran for the door. I never made it. I was stopped, still as a statue, not even halfway to the door.  
  
"I have been patient with you, but you are trying me. Now, come here, for I wish to speak with you." I was turned around, and I found my legs moving on their own towards the evil wizard.  
  
"Now, then, tell me who you are."  
  
"I am Aranil of Mirkwood. I have been a slave here for four years. Long have I wished to return home."  
  
"Do you fear this place?"  
  
"No. It does not frighten me." I answered defiantly.  
  
"You are strong, elf. You have quite a spirit. You may be able to help me."  
  
"I will never help you, Sauruman."  
  
"I believe you will, Aranil. You will either help me willingly, or you shall experience pain that you would not wish even upon your greatest enemy."  
  
"I have felt pain far worse than anything you could threaten me with."  
  
"I see that you have chosen the most difficult path."  
  
"You shall never intimidate me, Sauruman. No matter how you torture me. I will never be one of them!" I yelled.  
  
"If you will not be turned dark by torture, then I shall have to use magic." Sauruman muttered words of the black speech and his staff shone with brilliance. A dark sphere of magic glittered in his palm, sending off tiny shockwaves of dark energy. I watched with great interest as it grew in size, with darkness shooting out farther, and farther, creating a web around Sauruman. He nodded in approval at the sphere and raised it high over his head. Without me having time to react, he flung the sphere straight at my chest.  
  
  
  
I screamed in pain and was thrown back at the force from the magic, and I skidded a fair way on the floor. I screamed over and over in agony, as my flesh was ripped open, and claws mad their way through where my fingers had once been. My fair skin turned black and scaly. A long tail appeared, tough, leathery wings out of my back, and a row of spikes made it's way down my spine, gently drooping over one another, stopping at where my tail began. My once clear blue eyes turned red and glowed with a strange light. My hair clumped together and blood poured from my scalp. I grew at least a foot in height, and my teeth turned sharp and serrated. Amidst my screams of agony, Sauruman looked on with interest. I glowed with energy, and all was done. The glow went away, and I lay on the now hot floor, quivering with shock. My eyes open, stared unseeing at the ceiling above. I panted heavily, and I whimpered now and again.  
  
"Things can always be worse, Aranil." He called from across the room. Sauruman took my half-full glass from the table, and poured its remaining contents into my open mouth.  
  
He backed away, and I coughed and sputtered, but swallowed what was in my mouth. I sat up slowly, and stars exploded in front of my eyes, and I lay back down, clutching my head with my now clawed hand. I felt a pain in my back and I rolled over on my side. I gingerly reached behind me, afraid of what I might find, and I felt tough leathery wings, and reaching down farther, I felt a long tail stretched out behind me. Feeling along my spine, I felt spikes that drooped over one another. They were soft, though I was sure they gave the appearance of being sharp. I looked down and saw my horrid reflection in the black polished stone floor.  
  
Slowly, I rose to my hands and knees, ignoring the pain that engulfed my body like flames. Supporting myself with my arms, I rose to my feet, and turned to glare at Sauruman.  
  
"Whom do you serve now, Aranil?"  
  
"I serve only myself, Sauruman." I spat out in a pain-choked voice. I noticed that my voice was now much deeper, and had a slight growling noise with every word I said, or breath I took. Sauruman's face twisted into puzzlement, then returned to its usual scowl.  
  
"This did not work out as I expected. No matter. I may still continue as planned." He said almost to himself, as he turned away from me.  
  
With a sudden burst of energy, I ran across the floor towards Sauruman, with my hands out stretched. Once again, I was stopped as if a statue by the power of the wizard. He had not even turned around.  
  
"You gain nothing in killing me, Aranil, for I am the only one who can change you back to your former self. You will either help me, or spend all of eternity inside the dungeons, in this form."  
  
"If I help you, how do I know you won't kill me?"  
  
"Do you have a choice?" He asked, turning to face me. "I shall not go back on my word. I promise you."  
  
"What is it you seek?"  
  
"I seek the One Ring of Power. You know of it. Long ago it was forged, and waited in secret. It has now been found, and it is trying to get back to Sauron. It is currently being carried by one Frodo Baggins, a halfling of the Shire. You will bring the Ring to me, but kill the halfling, and any who are with him."  
  
"I will help you, but I have a better idea." 


	3. Setting Off

Title: The Different One  
  
Author: TexStarr  
  
Rating: PG (for graphic cooking scenes)  
  
Summary: The Elf had been working as a slave of Sauruman for four years, and no torture would steal away his spirit. But when magic becomes involved, he is offered only one option. Will he take it? Or meet his doom?  
  
Please Review!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ch. 3: Setting Off  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
And so it was that I, now an orc, retained my will to be free. I was given a mighty black stallion to ride, though I had wings to travel upon. Clothed in a flowing black cloak, the hood pulled over my oily hair and my eyes. It was clasped about my neck with a brooch, which bore the white hand. At my side was a beautiful sword, of elvish design, in a sheath of black leather, inset with jewels of red. I had questioned where it was from, but the question was pushed aside with a wave of Sauruman's hand. Tied to my wrists were gauntlets of brown leather, which went up my arms, almost to my elbows. On my back was strapped a quiver also made of black leather. Everything dark. It suited me well. On my feet were the heavy orc boots. There was a loop in one, in which a dagger hung. A bow of orc design hung, unstrung, on the saddle of my steed. I wore a belt about my waist, and attached to it was my sword, two sharp daggers that bore the 'S', and a pouch, which contained my flute. Around my neck I bore a small golden medallion on a gold chain, with a black jewel in the centre. Packs of food were set behind me on the saddle, as was a dwarven axe. I noticed that I had weapons from the race of both Dwarves and Elves. I wished to know why, but I knew that my question would most certainly go unanswered. My keen eyes glanced about the lands around me, and I set off at a gallop upon my steed, the end of my conversation with Sauruman fresh in my mind.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
//"Oh? And what would your plan be, Aranil?"  
  
My voice still choked with pain, I answered him. "I would meet with this Baggins. I would befriend him, then betray him." Hatred filled my being, no matter how I tried to fend it off. The spell was poisoning my mind.  
  
"A wonderful plan indeed. You are cunning, Aranil. There is no doubt. You shall set off at once. Guards! Fetch Aranil our finest steed."  
  
"Yes, milord!"  
  
"I have wings. There is no need for a horse."  
  
"You will need one. The journey is long, and as of yet, you haven't the slightest idea of how to fly."  
  
"I will learn."  
  
"On your travels. For now you shall ride." He answered.  
  
  
  
Later, an orc approached me with the horse, a strong black stallion.  
  
"This horse will serve you well. I see you have the weapons that I had set out for you. I also give you this." Sauruman said to me. He held up a medallion, and I leaned down a bit to receive it. He fastened this around my neck. It glittered in the soft light filtering down from the nearly solid line of black clouds.  
  
"With this you will be able to levitate things when you bend your mind towards that which you wish to lift. Do not use it too often, however, for it will greatly sap your strength. You know what to do. The Shire is far away, so I give you the fastest stallion. Play a certain tune on your flute, and I will appear only to your eyes. That way, you may tell me your progress. You know the tune already. It is brightly etched in your memory. Good luck, Aranil." He said with a mocking laugh. He then took a black cloak from the hands of a nearby orc, and set it about my shoulders. He then took a silver brooch and clasped it across the two sides of the cloak. I stood tall and cast my eyes to the clouds. I pulled the hood over my face, and mounted the stallion. An Uruk-hai held up his hand, which was painted white, and screeched. I urged the horse into a gallop, and I ran off into the distance amid the screams of the orcs and Uruk- hai.\\  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
This mount certainly was one of the fastest I thought, as I watched the short bushes go by as nothing more than a blur. It felt wonderful to have the wind at my face again, and I pulled back the hood, exposing my head to it, ruffling my hair. I noticed that there was a forest up ahead, with tall trees. Their branches reached towards me as if inviting me to go inside. I decided to take them up on that offer, and slowed my horse to a walk. I leapt off, and took the great horse by the reigns. I led him carefully toward the woods. I whispered in elvish into his ear, and the horse shook its mane. I took off the bridle and saddle, and the horse ran off to my left. Carrying with me the supplies off of the horse, I went into the forest. The trees parted their branches, as if afraid of me, allowing me passage to the centre of the wood, where there was a small clearing.  
  
I set down the supplies, and started to gather wood to make a fire. The trees around me cowered in fear, and I could feel it. I knew that they were afraid of fire, but I wanted a warm meal. Had I looked like anything else, they would not have been so afraid. I gathered only dead branches that lay on the ground, and I collected rocks to put around it, so that it wouldn't spread to the trees around me. I made my way back to the clearing and set everything down. I took some flint from another pouch on my belt, and the sparks caught on the dry wood. They crackled and built into a flame. I blew gently on the flames, and they built up more. From the pack of food on the saddle, I took some bread, and a flask of water and sat beside the fire.  
  
I briefly wondered what would make a good meal for that night, and as if I'd said it aloud, the trees urged me towards a path with their branches. I could tell they knew me, for I had been here before. I stood up, and took out my bow. I strung it, and slung it over my shoulder. I strapped on my quiver, and put my hood back over my eyes, so that only a faint glow came from them. I still had my Elven agility and speed, so I walked silently towards where the trees had showed me. Pushing apart the branches, I saw several brown rabbits gathered around a small crop, as if they had grown their own vegetables. I glanced at the trees, asking their permission to kill the rabbits for my dinner. They shook their leaves, and I silently removed my bow from my shoulder. I fit an arrow into the string, and pulled it back.  
  
I walked back to camp with a stick over my shoulder, which held four rabbits. In my hand I held a small sack filled with potatoes, carrots, radishes, and onions. Sitting down next to the fire, I laid the stick on the soft grass beside me. From my pack, I took two orc-swords, and lay them criss-crossed over the fire. On top of that I laid a pot, and filled it with the last of the water from my water skin. I looked through the food pack for some herbs, but there were none. I stood up, and I walked out through the path. I looked at the ground around me, and saw some bushes up ahead. Sniffing it, I thought, 'Ah, Basil.' I took the dagger from my wrist, and held a bit of the bush in my other hand. I prepared to cut, but then suddenly a voice rang out from the trees:  
  
"Don't move! Who are you, and what is your business here?" The voice said. I could tell right away it was an elf by the clarity of the voice. He could not see what I was because of the cloak I was wearing that carefully hid my wings. My tail was wrapped tightly around my legs. I swiftly cut off the piece of the plant I was holding, and put the dagger back into its sheath on my wrist. I put the herbs into my pouch, and ran off. A bowstring twanged and an arrow landed mere inches from my neck into the bark of the tree next to me. The tree reached down its branch, and I climbed up. I jumped up to the next branch that was a little higher than the last, and the next, until I was high in the treetops. I leapt along stealthily, thinking that the elf was still behind me. Far below, I saw the glint of a small fire through the thick branches of the surrounding trees. I risked a look back, and saw that the trees had closed their branches around the path I took, successfully cutting off the elf's path to me. I silently thanked them, and jumped down from branch to branch until I reached the clearing. I landed with a soft thud on the ground next to my belongings, and I looked around warily before standing up, and walking back to the fire. The water was boiling over, so I removed it from the fire, and set it on the bare earth next to it. I took my dagger, and sliced the potatoes, carrots, radishes and onions into the pot. I then took the herbs from my pouch, and crushed them in my hands until they formed a pulp. I put this into the water, and placed it back onto the fire, covering it up with a lid. I built another small fire, and placed two sticks on either side. I put the stick that contained the rabbits over the fire, and crunched some more of the herbs over them. I rotated them slowly, making sure they wouldn't burn. Being a close friend of a hobbit had its advantages. I knew how to cook wonderful meals, when I had the proper ingredients. I was also an expert on herbs and healing. I could make a meal out of almost anything you gave me to cook with.  
  
I leaned back against a tree trunk near the fire, my cloak drawn around me, covering almost all of my body. Drawing my flute from the pouch at my waist, a brought it to my lips and positioned my fingers; a motion that came so naturally to me. I picked out a note, and it rang clear from the flute, echoing off of the trees around me. I smiled ruefully. At least I could still do the one thing that gave me joy. I started to play a tune that was not quite sad, but was not happy either. I was glad to be free again, but I was pained to be in this form.  
  
  
  
  
  
*I watched as the figure chopped up vegetables and added them to a pot of water, and then place it back on the fire. The figure then went and sat next to a tree, and leaned up against it. I struggled to see what he was, but the cloak was drawn too tightly around him, and it was too dark. The fire cast eerie shadows on the trees. A sudden movement on the stranger's part made me snap myself back into attention. He drew something out of a pouch on his belt, and brought it to his lips. A note rang clearly through the forest, and the sound reminded me of my Mirkwood home. Then, he played a tune. It was so much sadder than the last tune I had heard played before I left Mirkwood. Involuntarily, I felt tears come to my eyes. I wiped them away, and silently leapt down to behind a tree across from the stranger, who was still playing his flute. I drew my sword, and walked into the clearing. He stopped playing, and looked up. I peered inside the hood, and saw two glowing red eyes. A shiver went through my spine. The stranger drew his hood back from his face.  
  
"Yrch!" I yelled. I rushed towards the orc with my sword held high, and he just sat there, looking at me. I stopped a few feet from him, and noticed how he looked at me. His eyes held the sparkle of seeing an old friend after being away for many years. I could see so much sadness in those eyes, though they glowed with evil. I lowered my sword, but kept it unsheathed, for he could not be trusted. He stood and I raised my sword again, but he did not come towards me. He simply replaced his flute back into its pouch, and brought his head up to look at me. He then drew his sword, and I prepared for battle. He walked up to me, ever so slowly, and kneeled in front of me. He laid his sword at my feet and backed away. I glanced down, and noticed that it was an elvish sword. A thought suddenly came to me: why would an orc travel alone? I sheathed my sword, and picked his up from its place on the ground. I went to him and held out his sword for him to take. He took it, and put it back in his sheathe.  
  
"Who are you?" I asked in the common speech.  
  
"It is not important," came the gruff voice.  
  
"I am Cheberyn, guardian of these woods. I protect them from…enemies." I stared warily at him. "The trees seem to know you. They would not allow me to capture you."  
  
"I know. Do you want to join me?" He asked.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For dinner. There is plenty for two."  
  
"What have you made? It does smell appetizing."  
  
"Believe me, it will be." He replied. "It's not quite finished yet, but will be in a few moments, if you will wait."  
  
He took a small pan from underneath the rabbits that were cooking, and poured its contents into the pot of water. It sizzled a bit, and then stopped boiling. He replaced the pan below the rabbits.  
  
"Have a seat."  
  
I sat on the other side of the fires, and watched him closely, as he pulled two tin cups and plates out of a bag. From another bag, he pulled two small knives and spoons. With one of the knives, he removed a small bit of a cooking rabbit, and put it into his mouth. He nodded in approval, and took the rabbit off of the stick on which it was roasting. This he placed on one of the plates. He added a slice of bread to this as well. Into the tin cup, he poured a ladleful of the contents of the pot, and added a spoon. He walked around the fire, and I watched him warily, seeing if I could notice any poison being added to my food, or any signs of an oncoming attack. He simply placed the items in front of me, and walked back to his place in front of the fires, and began dishing some of the soup out for himself.  
  
I dipped the spoon into the hot liquid. I gazed at the spoonful of potato and broth, and brought it to my mouth. My eyes widened in surprise. An orc had made this?  
  
"This is wonderful!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Thank you." He answered, his eyes downcast.  
  
"How did you, an orc, make this?"  
  
His eyes narrowed to slits, and he answered, "You mustn't judge by outward appearances, my friend." His eyes then returned to normal.  
  
"I have learned many things in my travels. Including how to cook."  
  
I finished my meal, and he piled the dishes into a sack and walked off. I assumed that he was going to wash them in the small stream nearby. I gazed at his belongings and noticed the dwarven axe that was there. 'Well, he did say he had travelled' I thought to myself. I lay back on the grass, and gazed up at the thick foliage that covered me. My eyes unfocused, and I slipped into the dream world. Faintly I heard soft footsteps despite the heavy boots, and something was laid over me, and I fell asleep. 


End file.
